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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25134181">sing of the knives we held at our hearts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverthecanonOTP/pseuds/neverthecanonOTP'>neverthecanonOTP</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Queen Series - Victoria Aveyard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Angels &amp; Demons, F/M, Fantasy AU, minor Evangeline/Elane, one-sided Mare/Maven</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:53:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,690</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25134181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverthecanonOTP/pseuds/neverthecanonOTP</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two hundred years ago, the second celestial rebellion, led by a power-hungry angel, plunged the divine and mortal worlds into a bloody war. </p><p>Mare Barrow, a mere human, is just trying to get by, doing her best to survive, when she unexpectedly finds herself caught in the crossfire of not only the raging war, but the old rivalry between two immortal beings on opposing sides of the conflict. Could she be the one to save humanity from destruction? or will she be the one that destroys it all?</p><p>Or: </p><p> Guardian angel Tiberias finally meets his protegee and it's definitely <i>not</i> what he expected: a pagan girl with an awful tendency to get in trouble.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mare Barrow/Tiberias "Cal" Calore VII</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is a shameless excuse to write marecal thirsting for eachother, sorry (but not really). PLEASE bear in mind english isn't my first language. Also, I'm borrowing a buch of concepts from different mythologies and religions. I'm not trying to make any commentary on any religion in particular.<br/>Now, with that out of the way... Thanks for reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tiberias of the Camniel Legion had been begotten over a thousand years ago as a guardian angel. His first conscious thought had been of the name of the human he was destined to protect. It was a rarity among his kind to be created so ahead of time of the birth of their human.  </p><p>Tiberias hadn’t been idle all those years, he had trained, studied and fought for the Kingdom in the eternal conflict against the Sheol. He had slowly ascended through the ranks as the Potestates, the authorities, saw his potential. Until he eventually became a Potestas himself. Under Camniel’s command he accomplished great feats, cultivating the gifts that were his commander’s domain: courage and strength. He had even started thinking his creation as a guardian angel had been some sort of mistake; even if the One made no mistakes. He no longer had time for such musings when, 200 years ago, the second celestial rebellion erupted, plunging the godly and human worlds alike in a bloody war that seemed to have no winners, only death and chaos.  </p><p> Then, amidst the smoke and thunder, on a stormy night, he sensed the birth of his protegee. It had been like being struck by lightning. From then on, he would constantly get surges of fear, of anger, of pain that weren’t his own. Even though he was in a position where he could delegate the human to a newborn angel, he held on to the name. It felt right to have it, engraved on the center of his palm, like a tether to the human world his kind lived to rule and protect. The name made it real, for he had never been there. </p><p>He patiently waited to be summoned, it usually happened around the first weeks of life if the family was of the Faith, or around the time the child learnt how to say the words themselves, which happened when they started going to school. After all, children got scared easily and called for the help. Even if guardians weren’t called right away, it was customary for them to hear prayers, thoughts sent their way, so they could provide spiritual relief or indirect assistance. Not <i>his</i> protegee, tough. </p><p>They were either really isolated and nobody had taught them the words, or they were incredibly, <i>stupidly</i> stubborn. Especially because his protegee was almost eighteen now and always got in varying states of distress. An in crescendo symphony of danger. He felt them constantly putting themselves in perilous circumstances and yet he wasn’t summoned. What was that wretched human waiting for?  </p><p>It would certainly be a disappointment to one day meet them at the pearly gates for the first and last time. To hear the gatekeeper call their name, without having had a single chance to aid lengthen their life on earth. </p><p>He sat on the steps of one of the seven stairways. The golden rays of sun caught in his luscious dark hair and made his wide white wings seem like morning snow. He wondered, gazing down at the decaying human world where he wasn’t allowed to go yet, what his protegee was up to today. </p><p>“Please, talk to me,” he muttered. What a silly thing, an angel of the second sphere praying to a mortal being. “Let me help you, Mare Barrow.” </p><p> *** ~ ***</p><p>“Absolutely no.”  </p><p>“Oh common, Mare. I’m telling you; these guys are legit,” Kilorn insists. </p><p>“Easy for you to say. They wouldn’t try to con <i>you</i>. Even criminals respect the cleric.”  </p><p>Kilorn has been trying to convince me for the past week to join forces with some shady group to steal from the ship cargo that would arrive Archeon tonight. It’s not that I’m not interested in the job; I just wasn’t planning on associating with others. I work alone. </p><p>“So what? You're going to pass up a one in a lifetime opportunity because you’re afraid?” </p><p>“For an honorable member of the church you seem awfully interested in steering me toward the path of the wicked.” I give him a side-eye.   </p><p>He had joined the cleric when subsisting on charity was no longer a choice, at age eleven. They provide food and shelter in exchange for your eternal service and obedience, such a small price. My little sister, Gisa, is in the process of becoming a nun, that’s why we moved here in the first place. To have a better life, to escape The Stilts overrun by demons. ‘Better life’ right, like that is even an option. </p><p>He chuckles in response. “I’m just trying to be a good friend. And you don’t believe in the Faith so...” </p><p>“It’s not that I don’t believe in it. I don’t agree with it.” </p><p>We walk the cobbled streets of the southern Archeon market, the slums basically. Precariously built grey houses, stacked on top of each other with large chunks of its red gables missing and rickety shutters line the busy streets. A perfect opportunity to grab a few copper drachmas from the pockets of distracted shoppers, or to sneak a bit of food from the vendors. I make sure not to touch anything with my bare hands, always wearing patched up gloves. </p><p>You don’t grant access to demons just by touching the impure food, you have to <i>eat</i> it, but one can never be too sure. </p><p>Kilorn walking beside me makes for a nice disguise. No one would suspect the plain girl next to the robe wearing idiot.  </p><p>We reach the chapel piazza and a long queue is already forming. Hell, they probably have been here from sunrise. They all hold baskets with the food their families are going to eat today, waiting to have the food blessed by the priest. My mom must be there somewhere. They don’t ever eat what I bring home.  </p><p>My family doesn’t care that I cleanse the food with holy water. <i>Stolen</i> holy water, but the point still stands. They like to play by the rules, even if those rules keep them hungry, and miserable, and cold. I’ve found loops around them and that’s the line I walk. Angels and demons, heaven and hell, it’s all the same to me: cruel beasts with unfathomable power. I won’t submit to them. </p><p>I say goodbye to Kilorn as he runs off to help the priest with the blessings; handing him the water and all that <i>very important</i> stuff, like standing beside him and repeating amen. </p><p>Instead of going home I pull my hood further down hiding my face, and set for the bay. If I want the cargo for myself, I better get there early.   </p><p> *** </p><p>I picked the roof of the highest warehouse to use as a lookout point of the coast. I cleansed my food with the holy water in my canteen and waited. I don’t mind waiting. If Will’s intel is right, this could be my greatest hit. This could mean retirement. A cargo of celestial bronze. I’ve never even seen it but they say priests keep amulets made from it underneath their robes. It keeps them safe. Of course, that old crook, being the businessman he is, sold the information to another group: the Raiders. They are not to be messed with, for they earnt all that power by making deals with the demons. </p><p>That’s the way of things. To survive you must surrender to the church in absolute obedience or make a deal with hell, and it always gives less than it takes. </p><p>Like most days, the air is humid and thick with cold mist, the sky overcast with violent grey clouds. If there is a god, they don’t like to look at us down here, that’s for sure. </p><p>I run a quick inventory of the tools I’ve brought for the job: my hand-crossbow and ammunition, forged to harm supernatural beings (at least I hope it does, I paid three months' worth of work for them), a short dagger, my canteen and most importantly: my words. Well, more like angelic language words, so they’re not exactly mine. Maybe not owning shit is a recurring theme in my life, <i>maybe</i>. That could change today. </p><p>Finally, as the sun starts to set, I catch a distant glimpse of the white sails. Time to act. I sneak from roof to roof, making my way to the waterline, doing my best to stay out of sight. As the ship gets nearer, I see how heavily guarded the main deck is. I was expecting that.  </p><p>I jump down to a ledge and again down to the narrow space between rows of crates. The canal water before me is green with algae, it reeks of the waste that drains from the sewers, I pull my scarf over my nose and mouth. </p><p>I have to time my jump at the right moment or I’ll fall, and as fun as that sounds, it’s a swim I would rather not take. </p><p>The ship enters the canal. I start the countdown in my head and touch the sharp edge of the dagger strapped at my thigh. The hull blocks the view of the other side of the canal, passing by right in front of me, about 15 feet away from the edge. I take a steadying breath. </p><p>Five, four, three, two, <b>now</b>. I sprint toward the edge and taking impulse on the railing, I hurl myself at the stern. I start to fall midair, that’s when I nick my finger with the dagger, drawing blood and I mouth the angelic word: </p><p><i>“Ozogon.”</i> </p><p>A strong gush of wind pushes me the last feet forward and I grab onto the wooden ledge across the hull. Perfect.  </p><p>I’m sure the Raiders will attack as soon as we dock so I have to be quick. I climb up to the nearest gun port and pry the lid open with the dagger. I crawl inside, landing softly on the floor. I take a peek and smile relieved when I realize I’m alone down here. Those fools are expecting an attack of course, but not sneaky tiny girl like myself. Sometimes being petite does have its perks.  </p><p>Back to business. I locate the stair hatch and tiptoe my way there. Through the gaps between the floorboards I spot two heavily armed soldiers standing guard next to another hatch. The cargo hold, that’s where I need to go. There’s no way I’m fighting these men, by the look of their silver chest plates they are special forces. Angelic language again, it seems. </p><p>They look quite big so I’ll have to make a powerful incantation. More power requires a bigger sacrifice, which means more blood, so I drag the dagger on the back of my forearm. I crouch on the spot right above one of the soldiers' head and let a drop of crimson blood fall on him. </p><p>
  <i>“Zacam de page.” </i>
</p><p>I quickly move for the next guy and do the same thing. After a bit of stumbling, two loud thumps indicate the words worked. I go down the stairs to find the pair fast asleep. I feel every fiber of my being buzz with anxious energy, I want to get out of here. The hatch on the floor has a huge lock that will probably take minutes to crack.  </p><p>A soft creak of the massive ship and a change in the movement, we must have docked. My stomach lurches as my anxiety levels reach a new high. I don’t have minutes. Any moment now the captain will show up with the keys, or the Raiders will show up with a bomb, either way I don’t feel like finding out.  </p><p>The cut on my arm is still fresh with blood, I wet my thumb and paint a line across the lock. </p><p><i>“Odo amizpi,”</i> I whisper as I tightly bandage my arm with my scarf.  </p><p>It opens with a metallic click.  </p><p>The cargo hold is full of crates with the royal seal. Anything from one of these would be a decent product on the black market, but I’m here for the big money. </p><p>I grab an oil lantern and look for the church sigil: a circle with a hand and a sun on the inside. A bit of commotion on the top deck that sounds a lot like laughter, makes me hurry. Maybe I should just grab anything and leave, what’s a life of stealing after all? No. My sister is leaving for the convent next week, and with my brothers in the missions, I can’t stay and be a burden for my parents. </p><p>On the far end of the room there’s a simple desk with a wooden coffer the size of a shoe box. It calls to my criminal instincts.  </p><p>I open the lid and my heart stops. </p><p>The celestial bronze is in the shape of rings attached to wooden beads necklaces. Nuns wear these. </p><p>That means a nun is up there to make the pickup. And my sister is such a good dutiful novice it means there is a chance... Shit, shit, shit. Panic floods my veins. </p><p>I grab the necklaces and stuff them in my utility belt. </p><p><i>Please don’t be here, please don’t be here</i>. I mutter as I make my way back as fast as I can. Except this time, instead of going out through the gun port, I sneak upstairs to the main deck. I intend to go in stealthily but the sight across the deck pierces me with rage and horror. <i>Gisa</i>. </p><p>A pair of Raiders laugh as one of them pulls Gisa’s red hair, forcing her head back, while the other holds her jaw and pours a dark liquid from a cup inside her mouth.  </p><p>“GISA, NO!” I scream as I aim my hand-crossbow. The arrow goes straight through the head of the Raider with the cup, but it’s too late. As if time had slowed down, I watch how her throat works swallowing the impure wine. <i>She’s tainted now</i>. The man drops dead and I manage to put a few others down before others grab my arms behind my back and drag me next to my sister. </p><p>Tears have started forming in her lost eyes, like she can’t yet understand what just happened. I can’t bear to look at the miserable sight. It’s my fault, I should have gotten here sooner. </p><p>The floor is covered with the dead bodies of the crew members. The Raiders, on the other hand, seem to be having the time of their lives, pillaging the fancy royal uniforms like vultures. They place the shiny ornaments haphazardly on top of their dirty trench coats and unbuttoned vests.  </p><p>“Grab the bronze and lets go” says a deep authoritarian voice. <i>Volo</i>, their leader. Oh I’ve heard stories about him. </p><p>“You miserable rat, you didn’t have to taint an innocent child to get your stupid bronze.” I spit at his feet. My blood is boiling. </p><p>He raises an eyebrow. </p><p>“There are no innocents.” He answers in a bored tone. He eyes my belt and nods towards it. </p><p>Another goon starts to pat me, making my skin crawl. I use the men holding my arms for support and kick him square in the chest. A fourth one shows up and punches me in the face. The world goes out of focus for few seconds ¿How many of these guys are there? I’m left with a throbbing jaw and blood in my mouth. <i>Blood</i>. I accumulate it, waiting for the right moment. </p><p>“Here, sir.” Says the dear fellow that just made me lose a tooth. He hands Volo the necklaces. </p><p>Well, there goes my retirement. </p><p>He examines them with a greed. </p><p>“Well, give the short one something to drink and call the Spectres.” He almost smiles at that. “Time for their meal.” He stalks away with a good amount of his followers behind him.  </p><p>A woman grabs a second cup and fills it with wine. How nice of them to invite me a drink, too bad I can’t stay. I spit the blood in my mouth as far as I can and it lands at her feet. </p><p><i>“AR FARZM!”</i> A fiery explosion pushes us back. It’s like running straight into a brick wall.  </p><p> I dizzily push myself up. Burnt pieces of sails, wood and human remains rain down around us. Before they can react, I grab my stuff from my captors and run for Gisa. </p><p>“C’mon time to go!” I grab her arm and drag her to the side of the ship. We jump into the disgusting water.</p><p>When we resurface, I can hear Volo’s booming voice summoning Spectres. There’s a sewer opening a few metres away. I swim as fast as I can, making sure Gisa is keeping up. When we reach the opening, we hear awful screeches from the direction of the ship. Adrenaline spikes and my heart gallops desperately. We run blindly inside, into the darkness. </p><p>“We have to get to a church!” Gisa says. </p><p>“I know!” </p><p>We take a sharp turn left into what I think is the correct direction. </p><p>The sewers are wide brick tunnels that run through the entire city. One has to lead to the central piazza. </p><p>“Those murderers killed sister Maryan! And I can’t believe you were going to steal prayer beads!” </p><p>“We seem to have more pressing issues at the moment!” </p><p>As if on cue, a loud cacophony of hissing and growling noises flood the tunnels, making my hair stand on end.  We keep running but the sounds keep catching up to us. It isn’t long until a Spectre jumps on my back, knocking me down, we roll on the ground. Its ungly sharp fangs open up inches from my face, but Gisa kicks it sideways, ridding me of it. I shoot at it and it turns into ash.  </p><p>A few more catch up to us but we manage to neutralize them. Our luck runs out when we take another turn and it’s a dead end. We can’t turn back. My chest grows heavy. </p><p>We turn around with the sound of a roar that makes the earth tremble.  </p><p>“Shit.” </p><p>An <i>actual</i> Hellion walks toward us among the Spectres. It looks just like the rest of them, all black, with the face of a hyena and a scale covered body, except it’s 10 feet tall and has a pair of leathery black wings. I gulp. Hellions are the lowest ranking demons, but demons all the same. He can’t touch me, for I am yet untainted. Gisa however... </p><p>“Mare, let me-” She starts to speak shakily. </p><p>“No.” I cut her off. I keep shooting at the spectres, but there’s just too many of them.  </p><p>The Hellion lurks wagging its scorpion-like tail with anticipation.  </p><p>We back up, with me standing before her. </p><p>“Mare please, let me save you.” She pleads. </p><p>“NO” I look at her fiercely. I’d rather die a painful dead saving her than saving my own worthless skin.  </p><p>Our backs are almost against the wall. I shoot my final arrow at the Hellions head. It sticks there like a mere nuisance, and he’s not amused. A second roar shakes the ground. I grit my teeth as it charges forward.  </p><p>I make a deep cut on my left palm with the dagger and flick the blood in a line in front of us. </p><p><i>“Ne malprg!”</i> A wall of fire erupts from the splatters.  </p><p>Gisa falls to her knees and starts praying.  </p><p>I grab pieces of the stone that fell off the walls and smear them with blood until they are dripping. I throw them at the demons. </p><p>
  <i>“Ar farzm!”<i> I chant over and over and the stones explode, turning the Spectres to ashes. But for every one I kill, two more arrive. And the Hellion is getting angrier while I only grow weaker. </i></i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The wall of holy fire will extinguish soon and it will get to us, to my baby sister. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>My vision is blurry around the edges and it’s hard to remain upright. I get nauseous just by turning around to face Gisa for one last time. I kneel before her and I know I’m not getting up again. I have to choke a sob and the oppressive feeling around my heart, like someone is trying to rip it off my chest. I take her face in my hands and she looks just like every single one of my brothers for a moment. She looks sad and eerily calm as she mumbles soft prayers. Maybe the church has been right all along and paradise awaits.  What I can do now is grant her a small mercy. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i><i>“Zacam de page.”</i> She falls instantly asleep and I make sure to hold her head so it doesn’t hit the ground. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>I turn around again and crawl to the line of fire. I don’t think I have the strength to incantate again. The flames start to slowly die and I face that ugly beast, looking up into its misty white eyes. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i><i>Submitting is death.</i> </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>A memory comes unbidden into my mind, sharp and clear. I won’t die today, and neither will Gisa. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i><i>“Ángele Dei,”</i> my voice is strong and unwavering even as I feel like I’m falling into an abyss. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The Hellion emits another loud furious growl that sends a wave of its rotten breath at me. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i></i>
    <i></i>
      <i>“Qui custos es mei,<br/>
me tibi commissum pietáte supérna,<br/>
hodie illúmina, custódi, rege et gubérna.”</i>
    
  
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The fire dies. The Hellion charges and leaps. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>“Amen.”</i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Blinding white light forms right in front of me, almost too hot to bear. The shape of a man with wide white wings is the last thing I perceive before my body slumps to the side and everything goes dark.</i>
  </i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christian_angelology">In case you want to read a bit about angels</a><br/>Enochian translation:<br/>-<i>Zacam de page</i>: Go to sleep<br/>-<i>Odo amizpi</i>: Open lock<br/>-<i>Ar farzm</i>: Blow up<br/>-<i>Ne malprg </i>: Holy fire<br/>The latin prayer Mare uses:<br/>Angel of God, My guardian Dear,<br/>To whom God's love commits me here,<br/>Ever this night,<br/>Be at my Side,<br/>To light and guard, to rule and guide, Amen</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tiberias barely has time to adjust his vision to the sudden darkness when he lunges his sword upwards, straight through the underbelly of a leaping Hellion. A Hellion?! What is even his protegee doing against one of those? He swings to the side and the beast falls limply to the side. His work isn’t over though. A swarm of Spectres lunges at him and he throws a few calculated wide strikes. He makes a quick work of them; this is a child’s game for him. However, he knows this isn’t an everyday occurrence for humans. As soon as he’s sure there aren’t any more demon spawns coming this way, he sheathes the sword and turns to check on his protegee. </p><p>A weight sets on his chest when he takes in the sight before him: A girl sprawled on her side, covered from head to toe in fresh blood that’s starting to puddle around her. Her breaths are quick and shallow. It seems she waited to the last possible moment to summon him.  </p><p>There’s another girl there. He furrows his brow; an enchantment has been placed on her, but there are no priests or divine beings around. His gaze returns to his protegee, Mare Barrow.<i> Could she...?</i> Tiberias shakes his head, now is not the time for this.             </p><p>He orders the other girl to wake up and she does so with a startle. She looks around, barely registering him as she clambers to Mare.     </p><p>“Oh, you idiot,” she cries assessing the eldest girl’s injuries and ripping off pieces of her novice white apron to tightly bandage her arms and hands. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” </p><p>“What happened?” Tiberias crouches before them. </p><p>Just then, the redhead takes notice of him. Her eyes go wide and she stammers a bit before bowing her head and answering. </p><p>“I was forced to drink impure wine and my sister protected me. We- we were attacked.” </p><p>“I can see that.” He speaks calmly, doing his best to comfort her. “Let me escort you to sacred land, and tell me where to take your sister.”   </p><p>“I can’t believe she actually said the prayer.” She mumbles looking at him starstruck. “I mean, yes! The church isn’t that far away. I’m Gisa, by the way. I’m her younger sister.”    </p><p>“I’m Potestas Tiberias of the Camniel legion.” </p><p>“I thank The One for thy.” Gisa bows her head again.  </p><p>She seems like such a devout kid. He instantly takes a liking of her. </p><p>“Bless you, child. Now lead the way.” </p><p>Tiberias waits for Gisa to get up before gathering the wounded girl in his arms and picking her up. She’s so light and frail, it moves something deep within him. Her brown skin has a worrisome grey undertone and she feels cold underneath the layers of her patched-up clothes. He pulls her a bit closer to his chest. </p><p><i>I’m here now, Mare. You’ll be fine. </i>    </p><p>   After dropping off Gisa at the church, he walks the empty streets of southern Archeon. He doesn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t this. There are sick looking people in every corner and dark alley, huddling around improvised fires to keep warm. The buildings look bent to the streets as if they might fall at any minute. He’s glad to finally reach the address the girl indicated and goes up the flight of stairs, to the 5th and final floor. He knocks on the door with a chalk painted 37, home to the Barrow family.  </p><p>A sleepy woman cracks the door a little until she recognizes the girl he is carrying. She throws the door open. </p><p>“Mare!” She inclines her ear to her daughter’s face, to hear if she’s breathing. </p><p>“She will be fine. Her vitals are strong.” Tiberias assures the woman. “For now, she just needs to rest.” </p><p>Only then does the woman’s gaze go to him, inspecting him with caution. As soon as she takes in the armor and the wings, her demeanor changes, looking relieved.  </p><p>“I thank The One for thy.” She bows her head. “Wait here.” </p><p>As Tiberias waits, he inspects the crowded interior of the apartment, wondering if every human lives such austere lives. In the wall across the room, there’s a single framed picture of Mare’s family. By the looks of it, she has three brothers as well, they are all wearing the same uniforms. The youngest girl is a novice and they must be in the missions, interesting. From what she told him; he gathers Mare is sort of the ‘black sheep’ of the family. In a way, that little fact makes him grow fond of her.  </p><p>The woman introduces herself as Ruth, leads him down the hallway to a corner, carrying a bucket of steaming water and a bunch of clean rags. </p><p>“Mare’s always enjoyed her privacy.” She explains with a smile as she pulls a cord from the roof and a trap door with a ladder falls down. Ruth is having trouble going up with the bucket, so he offers to take it.  </p><p>Mare’s room in the garret is divided by hanging pieces of cloth and littered with trinkets. The sloping ceiling and exposed wooden beams make it a bit uncomfortable to get to her mattress, just below a massive circular window with missing glass panes, that have been covered with paper on top of paper.  </p><p>He deposits her there with excessive care, instantly missing the weight on his arms. He sits on a creaky chair. </p><p>Ruth spends the next few minutes asking him what happened and he tells her the snippets of the story Gisa told him. While she does this, she removes her daughter's clothes and cleans the dried blood off her skin and hair. When she is done, she looks at Mare with a tenderness he has never witnessed before tucking her beneath the covers and kissing her forehead. </p><p>Tiberias had heard numerous tales of the way humans loved. How it deluded them into thinking they could defy beings infinitely more powerful than them. He had thought those tales exaggerated, but looking at the scene just a few feet away, he knows now they had been true.    </p><p>There’s much yet to learn about humans, it seems.                </p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p> My head is filled with lead. No, scratch that. My body is filled with lead and my mouth has turned to sand. Is this hell? It smells like my room, so it must be. A grunt escapes my throat and I peel my eyes open. It’s way too bright in here. </p><p>“Don’t move too much, you’re hurt.” Says a rich, deep voice in a commanding tone.  </p><p><i>An intruder.</i> </p><p>I practically jump out of mattress as I reach for my dagger, only to find my bare thigh. The room spins, with the floor rushing to meet my face until a pair of strong arms hold me by the waist, steadying me.      </p><p>Ugh, I feel like I might throw up. My sweaty forehead is pressed against something hard and cold. Ok, let’s try this again. I open my eyes and discover the surface is an armor breastplate.<i> Oh</i>. </p><p>Memories from last night (at least, I think it was last night) come rushing back. Lifting my gaze slowly, I find the face of a worried young man staring back at me. Those eyes; molten celestial bronze, pierce all the way to the core of my soul. They are beautiful, he is beautiful... inhumanly so. I stumble back until I’m pressed against the wall. The ghost of his touch burns my skin.<i> Snap out of it!</i>                                                                                                        </p><p>I inspect him better from a distance. He has a strong profile, with a chiseled jawline and a nose as straight as an arrow. Yeah, he is good looking, but that’s it. It’s not distracting at- Are those wings?                                     </p><p>He turns around to get a glass of water from the table nearby. Yep, those folded piles of feathers protruding from his back are definitely wings.  </p><p>“Here, drink some. You lost a lot of blood.” He says with a kind look on his face. </p><p>“Where’s Gisa?” </p><p>“She’s safe. I left her at Saint Dismas’. She told me how to get here.” He insists with the cup on his hand. </p><p>I’m really thirsty, I see no point denying it. My fingers brush against his as I take the cup, his warmth is a stark contrast against my cold skin. I gulp the water greedily. It’s sweet, he must have added sugar. I give him the cup back making sure not to touch him and he goes to fill it again. </p><p>He looks nothing like the Gisa’s guardian did. He was lean and had a childish look to him, like a teenager. He died protecting us to get out of The Stilts. I may not like his kind, but I don’t wish them ill. This one, however, looks like he wrestles Hellions on his free time; all wide shoulders and a muscular body, so tall he has to bend his head every time he walks beneath a beam. He fills the whole space. I don’t like it one bit. </p><p>“Well, thank you for your help, but you may leave now,” I say after drinking the second glass of water.  </p><p>He seems taken aback. </p><p>“Surely, you must know that is not possible.”  </p><p>I inspect my cuts and bruises, not that bad but I need to get disinfectant and real bandages, maybe even a few stitches. I’m only wearing my shirt and undergarments; I’ll try not to think too much about it. About the fact that there’s only one person (if you can call him that) that could have undressed me.  </p><p>“I’m fine,” I stress as I put on a pair of pants. “Nice to meet you, hope we never have to do this again”   </p><p>“When you summoned me, you said the words-” He starts explaining but I cut him off. </p><p>“To light and guard, to rule and guide. Right.”  </p><p>“Right. Then why am I sensing anger in you? From what I can see you are in serious need of some guidance.” </p><p>Not only do they basically own your life after you summon them, but they also know your feelings as if you had stripped your mind bare to them. It’s the worst kind of invasion. Just sprinkle on the fact that I woke up mostly naked and the humiliation it’s just too much.  </p><p>“Don’t fucking do that,” I say through gritted teeth, my cheeks burning red.  </p><p>“what?” He asks innocently. Like he can’t possibly understand what’s so messed up about having this much power over someone.  </p><p>The thing is, he doesn’t. I wonder if they see us as slaves or as pets. </p><p>“Don’t look around my feelings like they are on a display. They’re mine, and they’re private.” </p><p>He looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. </p><p>“Listen, I’m not going anywhere. Everything you say just keeps confirming how much you need my help. Also, you almost died stealing prayer beads, for One’s sake.” </p><p><i>Gisa, you little snitch.</i> </p><p>I pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m not strong enough for this discussion with an immortal being.  </p><p>“What if I commit a deadly sin?” That’s how my parents lost their guardian angels. That’s how most people lose them. You get branded for life and you can’t access a lot of jobs and other privileges. It truly is a lose-lose kind of situation. </p><p>“Are you seriously telling me that?” He crosses his arms. “Then I’ll have you know I’m very patient. I won’t give up on you that easily, Mare.” </p><p>He says that with such hope, such resolution. I sigh, giving up, <i>for now.</i> </p><p>“<i>Fine</i>. You need to tell me what’s your name, at least.” I tug on my boots and grab my coat, making for the door.  </p><p>He follows with a barely concealed smirk on his lips.  </p><p>“Potestas Tiberias of the Camniel legion, at your service.”  </p><p>“Pot- Cam-” <i>well, that’s a mouthful</i>. “Yeah, I’m not calling you all that. How about Cal?”  </p><p>Now he’s smirking fully. <i>Oh One, he is so annoying</i>. </p><p>“That’s ok.” </p><p>“Great, we’re going to the healer in Beggar’s alley, so if you could just...” with one hand on the trap door handle, I gesture with the other to the wings on his back. “Cover those or something.” </p><p>Cal nods and closes his eyes. The wings burst on flames and I fall on my ass trying to back away. In the blink of an eye, they’re gone and so is the fire. My heart beats so wildly it might leap out of my chest. </p><p>“<i>Holy shit.</i>”  </p><p>He adjusts his maroon cape so it turns into a cloak. Something in his smug face tells me he’s really enjoying freaking me out. </p><p>“Done. I have a friend that can heal you better than your ‘healer’ could.” Cal opens the trap door and goes down the ladder. </p><p>“I only have like five copper drachmas so...” As I’m going down, I lose my footing. Cal catches me in his arms like I weight nothing. My stomach does a weird flip. I shuffle until he lets me go and I walk away.  </p><p>“You won’t need the money,” he says catching up to me. “As I said, she’s a friend.” </p><p>“I thought you guys were like stuck ‘up there’ until you were called.” </p><p>“We are stuck in the spiritual realm, but she was the one that went to visit. You’ll like her.” </p><p>*** </p><p>I haven’t met Cal’s friend yet and I already hate her. For starters, her place is in western Archeon, the fancy part of the city, which means we have to walk. We even took a coach, but it still left us a good 10 blocks away. Which normally I wouldn’t mind but today I feel like passing out every two blocks and puking my sorry breakfast all over these pristine streets. </p><p>“You know I could-” </p><p>“Offer to carry me <i>one more time</i>,” I pant holding on to the nearest marble column, “and I’ll sell my soul to a demon in exchange for your silence.” </p><p>He sighs. “Okay, there’s no need to be so drastic. I think it’s over there.” </p><p>“You think?” I panic glancing at the direction he is pointing. It doesn’t look like a house at all, it looks like the entry to a park. </p><p>“I’m sure. Let’s go.”  </p><p>We follow a gravel path through the gates. The perfectly cut grass is interrupted by patches of flowerbeds and beautiful statues. A temple with rows of columns and an adorned triangular ceiling looms at the end of the path. </p><p>“Saint Victoria, patron saint of beauty and wealth” I whisper when I recognize the grandest sculpture: a veiled woman holding out a crown. </p><p>Cal seems pleased I’m not ignorant in such matters. Makes me wish I would have kept my mouth shut. He offers his hand for support when we reach the steps. I don’t feel like falling on my face because of my pride, so I grab his arm. As soon as I do it the burning sensation scatters up my arm into my veins, making my head buzz with the same weird energy from earlier. I let go once we reach the top. What on earth is that? Whatever it is, it needs to <i>stop</i>. </p><p>He knocks on the double doors. Moments later an ethereal looking redhead comes to greet us. She is wearing a gray priestess robe, embroidered with silver constellations and moons.  She recognizes Cal immediately and bows her head. </p><p>“We’re here to see the high priestess. Is she here?” asks Cal. </p><p>“She is. Let me take you to her.” She gestures for us to enter. </p><p>We go through a spacious narthex into the nave. The light that pours through the glass stained windows paints the white limestone arches and marble floors a multitude of colors. It’s breathtaking. I had successfully avoided these places all my adult life, it’s not like places of worship back in The Stilts looked anything like this. And now, here I am, unable to crush the wonder that soars inside of me. I hadn’t realized I had my mouth open until I catch Cal staring at me some kind of way. I snap it shut and look straight ahead, to the altar.  </p><p>When we reach the altar steps, Cal goes down on one knee and kisses the back of his hand before placing it over his heart. A request for blessing, a sign of respect.  </p><p>I just stand there awkwardly, thankful the redhead left to look for the other woman. </p><p>“You could do it just for the sake of it. It can't hurt you to try,” He says standing up. </p><p>“I dislike nonsense.”  </p><p>He looks like I slapped him. Maybe he wanted to reply something smart, but we’ll never know because, at that exact moment, the high priestess arrives in all her extravagant glory. </p><p>Her silver blond hair cascades well past her shoulders, covering part of her embroidered white robe. The adornments don’t stop there, oh no. She is wearing a halo headpiece, long dangling earrings and claw rings on her left hand, all made of the purest silver I’ve ever seen. A single ring could feed my family for at least two months. I wouldn’t try anything with her though, her sharp grey eyes look straight into your heart and count your sins. Well, I don't think they can actually do that... they can’t, right?       </p><p>She salutes Cal in the ceremonial way, kissing the back of her right hand and then placing it over her heart, then a playful grin extends on her black painted lips. </p><p>“Tiberias, blessed be the day you grace me with your presence!” Her eyes set on me. “And accompanied by your protegee, no less.” </p><p>“It’s good to see you too, Evangeline. We need your help.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Narthex: a temple or church lobby</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for the kudos and comments! You guys are amazing &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The high priestess walks up to the glass basin on a pedestal, lifting the vial dangling from a chain at her belt, uncaps it, and exclaims <i> “Ol lava lansh lrasd a El”</i> as she lets a crimson drop fall into the water. The water turns into blood, and she grazes the surface with her hands, painting her palms with the liquid. </p><p>Sister Skonos is there, waiting with her palms up. </p><p><i>“Ol dluga g lansh”</i> the priestess says as she anoints the hands of sister Skonos.  </p><p>Mare looks unimpressed with the theatrics, sitting on the edge of a pew. The nun proceeds to hover her hands over the cuts and bruises, making them disappear leaving small scars. Mare’s skin regains a healthy glow, her cheeks flushing red when she notices Tiberias staring. Instead of looking away, she glares at him across the altar. A warm feeling bubbles up in his chest and he almost wants to laugh. She is so tiny and proud, it’s cute.  </p><p>“Interesting cuts. I sensed traces of angelic power from her,” remarks Evangeline disapprovingly, standing close next to him. “A pagan use of it.” </p><p>“I suspected that. She’s quite smart.” </p><p>Evangeline lifts an eyebrow. She looks from Mare to him, in a way that makes him finally give her his undivided attention.  </p><p>“What?” he asks just to indulge her. They’ve been friends for years now.  </p><p>“I was just thinking about how much of a bad idea this is. I don’t think you can guard her.” </p><p>“I’ve fought entire demonic legions; I can manage a mortal girl.” </p><p>“My point exactly,” she drops her usual sneer for a moment, looking at him as a friend, “you’ve seen too much war, suffered too much loss. You’re far from the usual wide-eyed newborn required for this job.” </p><p>He knows what she is talking about, <i>who</i> she is talking about. No matter how much time passes, thinking about it will always feel like a fresh wound. A phantom pain like he had had his hand cut off. </p><p>“I can do it, I’m certain. She needs me, even if she won’t admit it.”  </p><p>Evangeline shoots him a last doubtful glance before returning the cold, detached expression to her perfect features.  </p><p>“We shall see how that turns out, Tiberias.” </p><p>~*~ </p><p>I’m not a fan of religious people, but holy One this feels amazing. Normally I have to clean my cuts with a disinfectant of shady origin from Beggar’s alley, stitch myself up leaving behind uncomely scars when I go too far, and it’s not a pleasant experience. This nun, however, is healing everything, even my sore muscles with such care it feels like a caress. I should learn how to do this.  </p><p>This kind of magic requires too much power, though, the kind you can only get by full-on sacrifice rituals, and that’s beyond my possibilities. I know a few angelic words I learned from a sacred scroll I stole on accident. I had to go to Mass and do a lot of research until I figured out how to read and use them. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have bothered, but my brother in the missions, Shade, implied he had learned so, naturally, I had to as well.  </p><p>“You haven’t been through the waters,” the high priestess points out, approaching me. She looks at me over the tip of her nose, annoyed as if I came here specifically to disrupt her busy agenda.  </p><p>“My parents are of the Faith, but they say going through the waters should be a conscious choice.” I pick at my nails, they’re so dirty I can’t believe I didn’t notice before.  </p><p>“That wasn’t very smart of them. You should rectify that as soon as possible.” She laces her fingers together; her shiny claw rings seem threateningly sharp.  </p><p>“Avoiding unnecessary cruelty to one’s children sounds like a good idea to me,” I snap back. I won’t let some stranger insult my parents when they’ve done nothing but love and protect me and my siblings all our lives.  </p><p>“Your worldview is so narrow, little girl,” she condescends, “if you really think an instant of pain with a purpose is cruel.” </p><p>She is calling me a <i>little girl</i>? We look around the same age.  </p><p>“I’ll make sure to take her to the waters, Mater Samos.” Cal chimes in. </p><p>Samos... <i>wait a minute.</i> </p><p>“Aren’t you related to the Raiders leader? Volo?” </p><p>Oh, she must not like to be reminded because she looks ready to rip off my throat before she catches herself. So, it is true; and she has the gall to criticize <i>my</i> family. </p><p>“The One and my brothers and sisters in the Faith are my only family. Please make sure to grace us with your presence more often, Potestas Tiberias.” <i>‘Without this nuisance on toll’</i> seems heavily implied as she shoots me one last disgusted glance, I’m more than happy to return in kind.   </p><p>Evangeline Samos bows her head and extends the back of her palm toward Tiberias. He takes it and presses it lightly against his lips, granting her a blessing, so she can put it over her heart. The gesture alone reminds me of just how much authority he has.  </p><p>“Bless you, Mater. And thank you for your assistance.” </p><p>She nods and leaves, finally. She was a piece of- </p><p>“All done,” the nun steps away from me, admiring her work. </p><p>“Thank you,” I reply honestly. Sister Skonos was actually nice, I like her. </p><p>Cal grants her a blessing as well before we leave. </p><p>As we make our way back home, I have a spring on my step. Not feeling on the verge of passing out has a positive effect on my humor. Bright green ivy with flowers climbs the white walls of the buildings to the decorated rooftops; it doesn’t seem ostentatious anymore, it’s just ornate. Also brimming with economic potential, but with an angel walking next to me, robbing one is out of the question. </p><p>“So... now that I am healthy and safe, you can leave me be. Right?” </p><p>“I will.” <i>Yes!</i> “If we settle the matter of your Submersion first.” <i>Damnit.</i>  </p><p>“Like I told your friend over there, <i>very nice</i> girl by the way, I don’t see it as an obligation.” </p><p>“Understandable, but it would give you insight into your soul,” Cal explains passionately like he’s happy to finally spew the stuff that’s been taught to him. “Maybe the reason you’ve strayed so far from the light is because your hearing is muffled. Going through the waters would help you with that.”  </p><p>“Ok, first of all, I have just the amount of light I want in my life. Second, it won’t help me put food on the table so it’s a huge waste of time. Not interested. If you really want to help me you can lend me that pretty sword of yours.”  </p><p>A weapon like that, made of celestial bronze, is worth thousands in the black market. I’m sure he can get another in the celestial forge or wherever it is they get their weapons.  </p><p>He looks at me entertained by the suggestion, eyeing me from head to toe. I have to look away, there’s something in his eyes I can’t stand. </p><p>“You don’t even know how to use it.” </p><p>“I’m a fast learner.”  </p><p>“Ok.” I see the wheels in his head turning. “Then let me teach you.” </p><p>I stop dead on my tracks. Learning how to fight properly could mean the difference between life and death. It’s a tempting offer. Cal stops and turns to face me. </p><p>“And you would give me one of those.” I raise my chin at the sheath at his waist, partially covered by his cloak. </p><p>He smiles softly and his eyes sparkle with amusement. I cross my arms firmly against my chest, trying to get rid of the flutters beneath my ribcage. </p><p>“Yes, I’ll train you and give you a proper sword, only if you agree to go through the waters.” </p><p>I want to say yes right away, but something tells me this agreement will have consequences I cannot yet fathom, like one of those mornings when the mist is too thick and still you choose the unknown path. There’s a thrill to the uncertainty for someone like me, who’s lived her entire life planning on a day to day basis and only with what little I had.  </p><p>“First you train me, then I submerge. Deal.”  </p><p>“Don’t humans seal deals with a handshake?” He extends his hand tentatively. </p><p>I look at his strong, calloused hand with apprehension. Maybe earlier touching him felt like sticking my hand into a flame because I was too cold, maybe it won’t overwhelm me this time. I take it and my quickly conceived hypothesis shatters. He lifts the back of my hand to his lips and I snatch it away, panicking. He furrows his eyebrows confused like a puppy. </p><p>“That won’t be necessary. See you tomorrow morning on the roof-terrace.” I sound more aggressive than I intend to, I just want to get away from him. I keep walking. </p><p>“I’ll be there. Goodbye, Mare.” </p><p>When I look back, he is no longer there. </p><p>~ </p><p>I’ve decided I should come to this part of Archeon more often, in a single afternoon I’ve procured a decent loot and I’m ready to call it a day.  </p><p>Twilight robs even these luxurious streets of their beauty, leaving behind a gloomy grey atmosphere. As I’m walking into the old bridge area, full of abandoned buildings and brothels, I hear some commotion coming from across the street. </p><p>“C’mon kid, show us what you got there,” insists a man with a drunken slur. I walk faster. Three men are cornering a scrawny looking guy in a trench coat against the brick wall.   </p><p>“It’s dirty laundry, now let me go.” He takes a step, but the tallest crook pushes him back. “Ok, fine. It’s food for my family.” He doesn’t sound afraid, just impatient. I respect that, even if it’s going to get his ass kicked. </p><p>“Perfect, we were just talking about getting something to eat. Right guys?”  </p><p>“Maybe we’ll cook you as well.” The man cackles and slaps the cornered guy in a ‘friendly’ way. Now that I’m closer, I distinguish young features beneath his dark hood. He could be Shade’s age, maybe younger. The man continues taunting him, “Make a visit to your sweet mama when we are done.”  </p><p><i>Don’t get involved, Mare</i>. I try to keep myself from caring, clenching my hands into fists. </p><p>Laundry guy tries to escape again, more desperately this time but two of the thugs pin him to the wall, while the third one picks up the sac he just dropped and rummages through it. </p><p>“Please don’t, that’s for my little siblings!” I feel a stab of guilt. His pleading wins him a punch in the gut.   </p><p><i>Unbelievable</i>. Exasperated, I sigh. There´s a broken bedpost in a pile of trash, I grab it and sneak up to the man currently beating the hell out of laundry guy, I hit his balding scalp with it, putting my entire weight into the strike. An ugly cracking sound cuts off their laugher as he tumbles to the side. The other two barely have time to register my presence before I reach for the duffel bag and grip the guy by the collar, dragging him out of there. He reacts quickly, taking back his bag and keeping up with me as we run away from the shouting men. </p><p>“You’ll regret that! Get back here!” </p><p>We sneak into an alley and sprint zigzagging in between dumpsters and prostitutes with their customers. Poster splattered walls blur as we speed past them, taking random turns, trying to lose them until we reach a dead end. A sense of déjà vu overwhelms me. Well done. </p><p>“Shit, not again,” I grit my teeth.  </p><p>“We can climb that! Help me up!”  </p><p>I hoist him up by letting him step on my knee and lifting his foot the rest of the way. He kneels on the gabled roof. I already dread what’s about to come. </p><p>“Thanks!” he says breathlessly. “Pass me the bag.” </p><p>I do it and his head disappears over the ledge. Of course. A weight settles on my chest; he’s going to leave me here to fight off the brutes. That’s what you get for trying to play the hero. To my surprise, he reappears seconds later and he extends his pale hand down. </p><p>“Hurry!” he whispers.  </p><p>I hold on to him as I step on the wall for impulse, he pulls me up just in time. We press our bodies to the roof, with the cover of the night, the men run past our alley without spotting us. I release my breath, so relieved to avoid fighting I could stay here forever. </p><p>The guy beside me chuckles “I can’t believe we got away.” Our hands are still intertwined in the space between us. He lets go with a furious blush coloring his cheeks. “Sorry. And thank you.” </p><p>“It’s nothing.” I brush off my knees as I stand up. He does the same, and I notice how tall he is. “I just happen to know what it feels like to want to help your family.” </p><p>“I wish I could repay you somehow.” We stick to the rooftops, the safer option until we leave this area. </p><p>“There’s no need, really. Just stay off the streets for a while.” I should probably do the same, it’s too late to go to Will’s right now to sell the valuables in my pockets. I’ll just have to go to my parent’s house and get yelled at for being such a terrible daughter if I plan on having diner. I’m starving, and my stomach loudly agrees with that statement. </p><p>“I know! Let me invite you diner with my kids. We have enough to spare a plate.” Sensing my hesitation, he adds. “I’m just over there.” He points to the outline of the old grand theatre’s dome. It’s way closer than my house on the other side of the city. </p><p>“Sure,” I manage a smile, “why not?” </p><p>“It will be a pleasure to have you over...uhm.” </p><p>“Mare. Mare Barrow.” </p><p>His smile is brighter than the moon haloing his hooded figure. He pulls the hood down, messing up his raven hair in a way it makes his handsome, angular face look more boyish. His eyes are strikingly blue, like a clear summer sky, and the look on them is just as warm. </p><p>“I’m Maven.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><i>“Ol lava lansh lrasd a El”</i>: I ask power from the One<br/><i>“Ol dluga g lansh”</i>: I grant you power</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Welcome to my humble abode” Maven gestures for me to enter first.  </p><p>The entry is through a broken window on the top floors, we pass a dusty gallery with mirror covered walls that must have been beautiful once and enter the box seats, below us, the wide space where the seats used to be is crowded with makeshift tents and at least a dozen running children of different ages. </p><p>“All of them are your siblings?” I can’t help to sound surprised. </p><p>He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “About that, they aren’t really my family. I mean, they are like family but- you'll see.” He gives up on trying to explain as we go down rusty scaffolding that was probably left behind years ago.  </p><p>When it’s a safe distance to the ground, I let go and land raising a cloud of dust, startling a few kids nearby. They flinch, looking at me with distrust. Maven lands next to me and their tiny faces light up. </p><p>“Maven is here!” shouts one of them. A horde of children surrounds him, hugging him and shouting his name. I’m a bit taken aback by their displays of adoration, but it’s also heartwarming. I did the right thing by helping him. </p><p>“Alright, alright little rascals,” He pats their heads as he tries to move. “Why don’t you go set the table?” </p><p>They obey his command and run for the band pit, which I’m assuming is their ‘dining room’.  </p><p>“I didn’t know you were a celebrity,” I tease him and he shrugs blushing. </p><p>“I’m only doing what is right.” </p><p>We go to the pit and the kids, all 12 of them, are forming a somewhat tidy line to get a portion of porridge from a steaming pot. </p><p>“Thank The One you got here,” declares the girl serving the meal. “They were getting impatient, Nina especially; she was biting the others.” </p><p>“Run into a bit of trouble. It’s a good thing Mare was there to save me,” he grins as he lets the sac fall from his shoulder, opens it, and puts a loaf of bread and an apple in each of the kid's tin plates. </p><p>The girl inspects me with a glint in her sharp attentive eyes, almost cat-like. “Well isn’t that fortunate.” Have we met before? I would remember having met someone shorter than me, and with such crazy hair, short and pointing in every direction like a scared hedgehog. She must think there’s something more between me and Maven. “We’re happy to have you here, Mare. My name is Janny.” </p><p>“But we call her Kitten,” Maven interjects.  </p><p>“Cool place you have here,” I take in the sight. The decaying magnificence of the high ceilings, the crown moldings, and faded away frescos have a nostalgic charm to them, even if I could have never afforded a ticket.  </p><p>“We make good use of it.” Maven walks to the head of the table and gives instructions to the children. “Remember, never eat...” </p><p>“Before cleansing the food,” they complete in unison and he smiles proudly. They pass around the table a few bottles, sprinkling holy water over their plates. </p><p>Kitten hands me a plate and I cleanse it as well. I sit down on the steps of a stair, observing how Maven interacts with them, asking them about their day or answering silly questions. A blonde girl asks him if I’m his girlfriend and he gets all flustered, lifting his gaze to make sure I didn’t hear. I shake my head, letting him know it’s fine. Some others join the group, young people with a comfortable camaraderie between them. They all wave at me from a distance. When Maven is done checking up on everything, he grabs a plate and joins me on the steps. </p><p>Curiosity gets the best of me. </p><p>“What is all this?”  </p><p>“These are my children,” he says fondly.  </p><p>“You look way too young to have this many,” I elbow him playfully. There’s something about him that makes me feel at ease. </p><p>“They are orphans. My friends and I rescue them from the streets and provide them shelter without asking for anything in return.” </p><p>He is being cautious with his words but I know what he means. <i>‘Taking advantage of a child’s hunger to force them into a life of servitude’</i> like the church did with Kilorn. He can’t outright say that, because he doesn’t know if I’ll run straight to the Council doors to report him. Maven is taking a huge risk with me, all because I helped him. It moves me. </p><p>“This is dangerous. Why bother?”  </p><p>“I wish someone would have done something like this for me when I needed it,” he explains matter-of-factly. </p><p>“You’re an orphan as well.” </p><p>Maven smirks bitterly at that, a faraway look clouds his blue eyes.  </p><p>“Worse. My <i>parents</i>,” he pronounces the word like there’s something funny about it, “they kicked me out. I suppose I was too much of a problematic child for them.” </p><p>That’s horrible. I frown, thinking about what kind of garbage human throws a child out. I’ve done my fair share of stupid things, but I like to think I could always return home. </p><p>“I’m sorry.” </p><p>“It was a long time ago,” he shrugs off, “What about you? Why aren’t you horrified we cleanse the food ourselves?” </p><p>“Well...” I play with the apple in my hands. He knows what my hesitation means instantly like he could read my mind. </p><p>“You do it as well. What are the odds?” He shakes his head. “Where do you get it? The holy water I mean.” </p><p>“I steal it,” I mutter holding back a smile. </p><p>“Uh.” He rubs his chin impressed, “that’s easier than bribing a priest to bless a barrel.” </p><p>“My mother would disagree.” </p><p>Maven leaves his empty plate aside and rests his cheek on his fist, looking at me with genuine interest. </p><p>“Devotion is a hard thing to argue.” </p><p>Maybe it’s because of my full stomach, or maybe because he has been so kind and open with me, I find myself spilling my entire life for him to hear. He’s a great listener, and he shares so much of himself with me, like we’ve known each other forever, instead of meeting a few hours ago. More than anything, what makes me tell him so much is the fact that he is the first one to really understand my refusal to be a part of the Faith.  </p><p>“I believe in myself and that’s enough.” He absentmindedly rubs his thumb across his wrist, without looking at me, like he’s afraid of saying it aloud, he continues, “even if it weren’t, I still wouldn’t give them my life.” </p><p>Most times I feel like I’m the only one who sees the world the way I do, not only afraid of being canon meat in a war that has nothing to do with us humans, but also angry. Angry because I don’t have the power to do anything about it. A single mistake can get you ripped apart by demons, and refusal to bend to the holy will of the Faith can have even worse consequences. Is it too much to ask to simply want to live? Shade used to understand, but when he turned 18, he had to leave me.  </p><p>The sound of bells echoes in the distance, it’s midnight. I barely noticed that all of the children and most of the adults have gone to sleep already, too invested in my conversation with Maven. </p><p>“It’s so late,” I’m a bit surprised at how much I don’t want to go. </p><p>“You could stay here,” Maven blurts out, “We have room to spare, and it’s dangerous out there, I would know.” He adds shyly combing his long pale fingers through his hair. </p><p>I could, but I have that training thing with Cal tomorrow. I wonder if I didn’t show up, he would stay there tapping his foot impatiently all morning, or if he would show up here in a blaze of fire and pull me by the ear like a disobedient child.  </p><p>“I know how to get home safely, don’t worry.” </p><p>  He walks me to the street, hesitating a beat before asking. </p><p>“Would you like to work with us?”  </p><p>“You mean feeding the kids?” I can’t imagine myself doing such a noble task. </p><p>“Yeah, you can summarize it like that. You would get paid, of course.” </p><p>“Wh- Yes, I would love to!” I agree still in disbelief. </p><p>“I’ll tell you the details tomorrow. You know where to find me.” </p><p>It’s not often I can say I’ve been lucky; tonight, is one of those rare times. Maven thinks the same by the toothy grin on his face as we say our goodbyes. My mom will be ecstatic to hear I got a job, just as long as she doesn’t find out the illegal part about it. </p><p>~*~ </p><p>
  <i>«Perfection breeds power, it is what we should all strive towards. To perfect ourselves is a wonderful journey with no other goal than to please The Eternal One; bearing in mind the two common sins one may commit in the search for this: to hunger beyond our capabilities, because The One cannot be surpassed and the frustration would erode happiness; or, just as futile, to try to grant power to those who had not yet earnt theirs. Birds know their place in the sky, as lambs know their place in the meadow. -11th Sacred Scroll, verse 2-» </i>
</p><p> </p><p>Should he wake her up? Will she be mad as soon as she wakes up, just like the last time? Maybe it’s a human thing, maybe it’s a Mare thing. He’ll ask her when she deigns to show her face on the roof-terrace of her apartment building. The terrace is connected with every other building in the block, creating a wide, irregular practice area with an atrium in the center. It’ll do. </p><p>The girl finally shows up at 8, securing her tangled chestnut hair in a ponytail. The space between her eyebrows is slightly creased as she greets him with a dry ‘morning’, so that’s a question he won’t need to ask. She <i>is</i> in a bad mood as soon as she wakes up. <i>Fascinating</i>.  He greets “Blessed morning.”  </p><p>“Did you bring me a sword?” that idea cheers her up. That’s why he hates extending an iron practice sword to her. She deflates looking up at him, raising an eyebrow. </p><p>“I wouldn’t want you cutting a hand off on the first day.” He tosses the sword in the air with a flourish, catches it, and extends the hilt to Mare. “You have to earn the weapon.” </p><p>She bites her lips as she takes the sword, almost as if she is restraining herself. The thought of making her smile tugs at a string of pride he didn’t even know he had, he allows himself to drop the soldier part. </p><p>“Impressed?” he brags.  </p><p>That does it, it’s like the sun just came out. She scoffs, unable to hide her smile before turning away from him and taking the worst initial stance he has witnessed in centuries. The determination in her eyes keeps him from taking any jabs at it. </p><p>“Wouldn’t you like that Cal?” </p><p>‘Cal’ he shouldn’t like the nickname as much as he does. It lets him believe there is a closeness between them. He isn’t even sure that’s something he should strive towards, but he still gravitates to her.  </p><p>“Right now.” He goes to the side and lets the cape fall from his shoulders. “I just want you to focus.” </p><p>~ </p><p><i>Focus</i>. A little hard to do considering how massive his frame looks without the armor. No wings, no chest plate, no grieves, just a linen shirt tucked inside practical pants, and leather boots. That is a man I could walk by on a regular day, if regular men were impossibly beautiful and had eyes made of precious metals. My throat is very dry, I swallow trying to get rid of the uncomfortable sensation and the haze that blurs everything but him.   </p><p><i>Focus</i>. </p><p>“Let’s start with the basics. Posture, you need to angle your hips for balance, one foot forward, and keep the edge at shoulder level.” Cal shows me and I correct my stance. He still finds flaws. “Better, but plant your feet and lower your elbows- no, not so much. Mare, you’re all wrong again.” </p><p>I feel stupid. Can't we get to the part where I get to chop stuff? </p><p>“You’re a terrible teacher.”  </p><p>“I’ve trained others before.” He doesn’t appreciate having his expertise questioned, so he sheathes his practice sword and walks right behind me- and oh One, how I regret complaining. His body heat engulfs me, dissipating the morning chill, every inch of my skin tenses feeling his proximity. “Like this.” His deep voice resonates in my bones as he grabs my waist to angle it exactly like he wants it with one hand, and grabs my elbow with the other to correct that as well. I bite my lip trying not to breathe in his scent, smoky pine needles that remind me of home, I could become addicted to it, It’s suffocating. “Can you remember this?” </p><p><i>More than I would like to</i>. “Hmmh.”   </p><p>“Good!” He chirps and returns to his place so I can breathe, think again. </p><p> We spend the entire morning going through the basics, by noon I’m all sweaty, tired, and feeling like taking the longest nap in history. The practice sword also feels heavier by now because of my worked muscles. I unceremoniously drop it and reach for my canteen, bending forward so I can pour some fresh water on the back of my neck. I stand again, closing my eyes relishing the sensation, spreading the cool all over my neck with my hand. I don’t even care I’m getting my shirt wet, it’s already dripping with sweat anyway. Cal is awfully quiet, especially for someone who was ordering me around non-stop all morning. </p><p>When I turn to look at him, he’s just standing there, with his canteen halfway to his mouth, staring at me with his bronze eyes clouded with some animalistic darkness that makes my knees go weak for a moment and a wave of heat rise to my cheeks. He snaps out of it and takes a long swig of his bottle. Was he... checking me out? The sole idea is laughable, but I can’t help to smile as I drink. He must be disgusted by my humanity, I’m beneath him even in the looks department.  </p><p>“You did good today,” he comments, packing up the equipment. “We’ll make quick progress.” </p><p>My chest swells with pride. I’m already planning on being his best student, to win that bronze sword quickly, of course. It might come in handy now that I have a new job, which I should probably tell him. </p><p>“You should know I got a job, so... no more stealing for a while,” I say trying to be casual about it. </p><p>“Congratulations! I hope something legal this time,” he jokes. </p><p><i>Not a chance, buddy</i>. I chuckle to avoid answering that. </p><p>~ </p><p> In the afternoon, I meet up with Maven at the old theatre’s gate. He’s sitting there waiting for me, his hood pulled up and his face obscured from vision. He hears my footsteps and lifts his head, his eyes light up. Maven has such a lovely face, like one of those marble sculptures perched on cathedral’s cornices. I guess Cal does as well, but he’s an ass so I don’t care for his chiseled jawline one bit.  </p><p>“Glad you could make it.” He stands up. </p><p>“I couldn’t miss my first day. So, what are we doing?” </p><p>“Nothing complicated, we have to look for children that might need help and first and foremost, make sure they don’t rat on us, then we offer them the chance to stay at the theatre. Then we have to smuggle some cargo over to the Cathedral of The Sun catacombs. Easy.” </p><p>The Cathedral of The Sun is at the core of the Sacred Citadel, surrounded by impenetrable walls and heavily guarded by elite warriors. Only church elders and high priests are allowed there. He <i>has</i> to be joking. A beat passes and I realize he’s serious about it. </p><p>“Easy,” I choke out.  </p><p>Maybe I should’ve stuck with petty theft.</p>
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